


Shoot To Kill

by yourejustsoloud



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 21:07:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourejustsoloud/pseuds/yourejustsoloud





	Shoot To Kill

You pulled your hair into a high ponytail as you waited for him to arrive. It should be strange to be meeting an arms dealer so publicly, but this planet had the highest rate of gun violence you’d ever seen. Purchasing out in the open actually seemed less sketch. Besides, you were buying from another Rick. Of course you had already ran a background check on his dimensional coordinates and he checked out. Stayed off the grid, didn’t fuck with the citadel; he was even wanted by the federation. Most importantly, he didn’t care to ask too many questions. He knew you were an assassin and he didn’t give a shit about the rest. You both secretly knew he had more to lose than you did if your covers were blown. You shouldn’t be associated with him any more than he should be with you. Risky? Sure. But C-137 had the most sophisticated and advanced weapons in the fucking galaxy. And just like any other Rick, you knew how to handle him. And had been for years.

His makeshift ship clanked beside you and slammed down. 

“What’s up, erp… happenin’, Red,” he stammered as he pressed the button to open the passenger door for you to hop in.

“Another minute of this heat and I would have been a fucking puddle,” 

You shut the door and settled in. The AC was cool and you put your face to it for a moment. 

“Well it might not be so… you wouldn’t be so hot if you weren’t dressed like the fucking Terminator in 108 degrees Fahrenheit, Red,” he smiled. 

You rolled your eyes as you wiped some remaining sweat from your forehead. 

“I’ll remember to pack my sundress for our next rendezvous, Rick,” you said sarcastically. 

He lifted a brow and chuckled. “Ha. Like YOU own a sundress,” as he continued to dig through the box of gadgets he brought. 

You liked the fact that he thought he had you all figured out. You never had to lie. He was just cocky enough to assume he saw right through you. Possibly rogue. Freelance assassin. Hell, he might even have thought you were more into girls than guys since he never seemed to hit on you like most Ricks did. Now, “doesn’t own a sundress” was another clue that he was creating an idea of you in his head. Oh well. Better he thinks all those things than know the truth anyway. So you played along.

“How’d the silencer work out for you last night, Red?” 

“How did you know I used it last night?” 

“I didn’t til just now” he said smugly. Damnit, this crafty asshole. 

“It was fine, as always,” you said. “Now what do you have for me today?”

“So you wanted an explosive that adheres without being conspicuous,” he hands you what looks like a metal glue stick. “Unscrew the top and smear it anywhere. When you’re ready, unscrew the bottom counter-clockwise ‘til it clicks twice. A yellow button will pop out. That’s the detonator. Make sure you steer clear of the arts and crafts table before then,”

“And the blast radius?”

“About 1000sq ft,” he answered, handing me the device. “‘Perfect for clean kills in a small space with minimal damage to surrounding areas’,” he said with air quotes, reciting my original request back to me verbatim.

“Mmmm, I love a man who listens,” I smirked as I handed him the cash. He rolled his eyes and smiled, throwing the cash in the backseat. He didn’t even bother to count it. 

“What’s that?” I asked, nodding towards a velvet jewelry box amongst the gears and various scrap metal.

“Ahh, that's just a proto-, erp... something I’m tinkering with,” he opened it to show what looked like a diamond tennis bracelet. “When you press the clasp,” he demonstrated, it’s link extending into what looked like a piano wire garrote. “You know, for those pesky hand-to-hand combat moments.”

You looked at him, impressed. 

“Anything else, Red?”

“I think that’s good for now,” you shrugged.

“Good doin’ business with ya, Sweets,” he smiled. 

You extended your hand.

As he shook it, he held on a little longer. You looked down at his hand in yours, then up at him quizzically. 

“Seriously,” he said, his tone more serious, “be cauti-, erp… careful out there, Red.”

Up until now you had never exchanged more than just a few sarcastic jabs and pleasantries. There was an unexpected tenderness in his voice this time. His hand in yours felt strong and his eyes protective. 

“Aw, Rick,” you said playfully, stamping down the stomach flip that happened as you had looked into his eyes, “You’re getting soft in your old age.” You pushed open the door as the summer heat burst into the cabin.

“Ha! OLD? I’ve been here before you and I’ll be here waaaayyyy- erp- I’ll outlive YOU, Red!” You chuckled as you exited the ship. He continued to protest about how NOT soft he could be as you slammed the passenger side door.

“Good doing business with you, Rick!” you shouted over his inaudible rant from inside the ship. You waved and he flicked you off as he ascended into the atmosphere. 

You walked the length of the parking lot back to your car after he was out of sight.

You got into the driver's seat and cranked the engine, leaning back to enjoy the AC blowing cool air. You locked the doors and pulled the explosive gel pen out of your coat pocket. As you turned it around in your hand, the weight of it in your palm, you flashed back to his hand in yours. You were use to all other Ricks and the ways they tried to show off, flirt, and try to fuck you. Even C-137 had his own version of flirty banter. But that look of care (maybe even concern?) he gave you…

Suddenly your thoughts are scattered as your phone rings. You press the button in your car to answer it.

“Amanda Rowan,” you answered.

“Rowan. Ellis here. Your assignment with Imposter SC-1 has been moved to tonight. Be in place by midnight for the target’s expected arrival at 0100 hours.”

“Affirmative.” You hung up and put the car in reverse and pushed down any further thoughts of C-137. 

You have bigger Rick’s to worry about.


End file.
